#her collection is so gorgeous i would kill for it

[reavesluv]

too straight for you?

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x superfem! reader.

Summary: Paige has been trying for a really long time to figure out if you swing even a little bit ‘her way’.

• just fluff, mentions of nakedness.

notes: hiii girlies, this is my first time writing on here, i used to write fanfics on wattpad but i realized my thing is one shots and not reaaally long series fr.

i love this idea of super straight looking girls dating super masc girls sooo…anyway, this was so much fun to write, i love my girl!

You can’t even tell how many times you’ve seen that blondie look at you, ever since the start of your sophomore year.

You were transferred from Tennessee to Uconn, because your parents got really good job offers in Connecticut, so you really did not have a choice, at all.

Everything started so casual, you two shared one of your favorite classes, Anatomy.

You really loved that class, and you always tried your best to pay attention, but it was impossible, because less than a few rows behind, you could sense how a specific girl could not stop looking at you, it was just so annoying.

she was blonde and tall, always had her hair in a ponytail or a messy bun, and by the way she dressed you definitely could tell she was not girly at all, always in hoodies, lose pants, crocs or nike dunks, and that men’s cologne that could drive any girl crazy. she didn’t wear any makeup either, and the only thing you could think was: “so she just wakes up with that gorgeous face card?”

You on the other side, were completely the opposite. A lot less shorter than her, not even close. Your hair always done, always with a different hairstyle because you loved to try them, your makeup always flawless and it looked gorgeous on you, even if it was a 7am class. It was impossible for you to use those lose pants, you could not. So you normally showed up to classes with a pretty skirt, or a flared legging, you actually had them in every color possible just for school. You only had one type of sneakers and they were sambas, in every color of course, that was the only type of sneakers that were girly enough for you to wear, and if not, you were always wearing those big and comfy uggs or those pretty kitten heels you loved. You were addicted to buy new fragrances for you to try, but never men-like, you could only wear Bath and Body smells, Carolina Herrera or Ariana Grande.

You had a collection of Stanley’s in your dorm, and you would always carry one, everywhere.

And also, you were a ballerina, a really athletic one, but you would never risk getting a nail broken to catch a ball, or getting your knees dirty on a soccer game, you would rather watch the Victoria Secret’s fashion show all over again a million times before watching a soccer or baseball game.

but you knew she was a basketball player, and without her knowing, you showed up a couple of times to her games, just to see if she was as good as everyone said, which she really was, not surprising at all.

Your nails were always done, even your toenails. there was no way you could go more than two weeks with the same set, and there was no way someone would catch you with split ends in your hair.

Funny thing was, that even if she was so different to you, so manly like —that drived you crazy, because that was exactly the type of girls you would kill to see them naked, and every time you caught her looking at you, that was the only thing you could think of.

You could tell that blondie was not straight, and you knew that she could not tell the same thing about you, but no way you would make the first move.

••••••

You had no classes that day, and you asked if the school gym was available to do some stretching and go all over your choreography again.

It was available, that day wasn’t supposed for anyone to use it.

you were stretching on the floor, specifically on the court, when four girls with basketball balls came in, you could tell who they were.

Kk, Sarah, Kaitlyn and the last one to enter, but the most important to you, Paige.

the four of them stopped talking and stood looking at you.

“Oh, we didn’t know the gym was being used, we’re so sorry.” Sarah said.

“Oh no! security told me no one was supposed to use the gym today, i’m the one who’s sorry.”

“it’s okay, i guess we all can use it? what if you stay on this side of the court and we practice on the other one?” Kk added.

“Sure, if that doesn’t bother you girls”

“it’s alright, you stay there, no problem” Kaitlyn ended.

Fuck — the only one you wanted to talk to was Paige, and she was the only one who didn’t say anything to you.

You brushed that thought away and put your airpod’s on again.

“That’s the girl i’ve been telling you about!” - Paige told her friends.

“Oh that’s her? well you’re right, she’s gorgeous” - Kk said.

“Careful there, she’s mine” - she answered

“Girl boo” - They all laughed.

“This is your chance, why don’t you go talk to her?” Sarah told Paige.

“I don’t know, look at her, she’s so…girly, i don’t think she even likes women”

“You will never know if you don’t try, Paige”.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After a while, you finished your choreography, and as if you were in class, you felt the eyes of Paige on you the whole time.

You had thrown back the ball to the girl a few times, when the ball hit you on some part of your body after she shot a shot or dribbled badly the ball. When that happened, she only smiled softly at you, that smiles that would make your stomach ache and to forget your thoughts.

The girls behind her laughed at her every time. It was so obvious by now.

You took your things and left to the locker room so you could shower.

“Oh Paige, i got something for you!” Kk told Paige.

“If it’s not the girl i don’t want it.”

“Ugh you’re head over heels, is disgusting. And no, it’s not her, but it’s something of hers.”

Paige turned to look at Kk, she was holding your precious Stanley.

the same one you forgot on the court on purpose, cause you were not talking to her first, but you had to help her a bit.

“NO — WAY” Paige said

“Oh yes way girl, is the universe telling you to go talk to her!”

“Give me that— “ she took the Stanley off of Kk’s hands. “I’m using this as an excuse to talk to her”

“You go!” the other ones said.

You were still on the locker room, putting on some light makeup so you can go buy dinner, when you saw her— the girl of your dreams, entering the locker room.

“Hey…” She said, you could tell she was nervous.

“Hi you”

“i think this is yours..” Paige said, handing you your Stanley.

“Oh shit— i must have forgotten it, thank you so much” you smiled at her.

She smiled back, again that smile that would make your world upside down.

“So…” she said softly, almost a whisper.

“I’m Y/N, i’m sorry i didn’t introduce myself before.”

she smiled again, her eyes lighted up at what you said.

“I’m Paige.”

“Oh, i know.”

when you said that, you saw how the cheeks of the blondie turned red, she couldn’t even hide it.

“You’re flustered because i know your name?” you chuckled softly

“Stop, you know what you’re doing” - she answered

you smiled, you couldn’t stop doing it, and got closer to her, you had to look up to meet her eyes.

“Yeah, i know what i’m doing”

she stood there, just admiring you, as she has been doing all this time, but now, a lot more closer than before.

“I—I..Can i—?…” she tried to speak.

“Yes, you can have my number.”

she looked at you and opened her eyes in surprise, there was no way you could read her so well as you did.

“Thank you…” she said.

she handed you her phone and you added your number.

“Took you long enough.” You said grabbing your makeup and putting it in your makeup bag again.

“I know..you just looked…”

“Too straight for you? Yeah, i know.”

she stood there, smiling like an idiot at you.

“But lucky for you, i’m not.” you said, also smiling.

“So that means, i’ve been thinking myself to sleep if you liked girls or not for anything?”

“You did that cause you wanted, you should’ve just talked to me”

“Oh shut up!” she said, flustered again.

You stood on your tiptoes and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

you chuckled softly, “I guess now i’m gonna have to buy a jersey with your last name.”

And after that, you left. Giving yourself a high five for throwing the girl of your dreams at you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

this was pretty fun

with love, m 🪽

[miley1442111]

protective- a.hotchner

summary: aaron (literally) fights for you

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: angst, talk of abuse, violence, general cm topics, crying, reader is a victim of DV (not aaron), gross men (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

------------------

Aaron Hotchner was a leader that you’d known from the beginning. He was your team leader, he was calm, collected, and calculated in everything. His lunch was the same everyday, he didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t swear all that often, and he wore the same sequence of shirts and suits every week. He was organised. 

Mondays was a blue shirt with a black suit, Tuesdays was a white shirt with a navy suit, Wednesdays was a white shirt with a black suit, Thursdays was a blue shirt with a grey suit, and Fridays was a white shirt with navy suit. Everything was fine and dandy, you trusted him, and you enjoyed his company. Everything was fine, until it wasn't. 

One stupid day, 8 whole months after you and your ex had broken up, he just so happens to be at the same bar you and the team are celebrating in, and he must’ve made it his personal mission to find you, to shout at you, to get you back. To piss you off. It hadn’t exactly been a good week, but then again, what week is when you’re dealing with murder cases? 

“Y/n,” Penelope sighed, looking out at the rest of the team on the ‘dance floor’. “I don’t understand,” she drew out the ‘understand’ to a ridiculous length, purely to annoy you. “How are you two so perfect?”

“Keep your voice down!” you hissed, turning back to her again. “We may not be at work but this is a work dinner.”

Did I mention he was your boyfriend too? 

“Have you seen yourself?” she gawked. “You’re gorgeous! He’s gorgeous! You two would make perfect babies” 

You chuckled. “I thank you for the flattery, but we can be honest here, he’s fucking gorgeous, and yeah, I’m alright,” you laughed when she hit you lovingly. “And, we’ve been together for 6 months, not 6 years. No babies for like… a while at least.”

“Y/n!” Charles’ voice rang out in the bar, meaning everyone around you turned to your group. “You fucking blocked me?!”He came up behind you, placing a tense hand on your shoulder, gripping the skin there until it hurt. “What kind of bitch does that?”

“Me, I guess,” you answered simply, staring straight down at your drink. Charles hadn’t been a very good boyfriend, nor a good person, and you didn’t really understand why you’d stayed for so long. Something about watching women get killed by their partners kind of snapped you into reality. Not that he was that bad but, he wasn’t good.

“Yeah right, you bitch. Unblock me, we need to talk about this!” 

“About what?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “We broke up 8 months ago, let it die Charles.”

“Baby, I miss you,” he leaned in closer, his breath heavy with alcohol. “I miss that pretty pussy too.”

You shuttered with disgust. “Get the fuck off of me,” you punctuated each word carefully and spoke slowly, making sure he heard you.

“Don’t be like that baby,” he smirked, tightening his grip. “Or it won’t end well.”   

You felt it. The gun in his holster. He wasn’t past killing you, you knew that. You knew he wasn’t safe. He never had been. He just wanted to get you home and into his bed, and you’d rather that than dead. 

“Get off of her,” Penelope demanded. He turned his attention to her, and you instinctively reached for your gun, only to remember that you left it at home. You weren’t about to let him hurt Pen. “And who may you be?” he asked. “Don’t,” you gritted out. “You’re here for me, not her.”

He turned his attention back to you. “I know that sweetheart, I don’t see why I can’t chat, do you?” 

“Let’s just go,” you told him. He nodded, a smug smirk on his face. You got up, his hand stayed on your shoulder the whole time, his other hand on his hip. 

“Good girl,” his laugh was dirty. Everything about him was dirty and sleazy and it made you sick. But again, better you than Penlope. 

Penelope’s eyes searched for someone, anyone to see you. He needed Morgan, o-or Hotch, or just anyone. “Hotch!” she called when she finally caught his eye. He rushed over to her. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, searching her for injury or signs of upset. 

“Y/n a-and this tall guy, he was talking to her and then she just got up a-and left. She looked scared. I-I didn’t know what to do,” she stuttered through her sentence, tears building in her eyes. 

You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. 

It played in his head like a sick mantra until he finally did something. He rushed out of there as fast as he could. He had to find you. He needed to find you. 

He ran down the alley beside the bar, nothing. Ran down the road with Morgan on his tail, nothing. Cars weren’t even moving, it was just a regular night. 

“Y/n!” Spencer called out to you. 

There you were. Leaning against a car with him standing over you. 

The three of them rushed over, ready to just take you back inside. They didn’t know how dangerous Charles was, how obsessed he was. 

“Stop!” you warned them. “Go back inside, I’m alright, I promise.” 

“We’re not leaving you here,” Derek argued. “Man, get off of her-”

Charles scoffed. “She wants this, she’s into it. It’s just some harmless fun!” 

Aaron almost recoiled out of disgust. He knew what you were into, and he knew it wasn’t this. It had taken you almost the full 6 months you’d been with him to even be comfortable enough to kiss or touch him in public. You didn’t talk about it but… it did come with the territory of being a behavioural analyst. He noticed how you shied away from the way he touched you sometimes, he noticed how you refused to drink a drop of alcohol, he noticed how you flinched at big noises, he noticed how you held his hand during sex. All of these little things, it led him to one conclusion, you’d been abused. 

He promised himself if he ever got to meet the fucker, he’d hurt him, if not kill him. 

Then in came Charles, and thus began the night Aaron Hotchner ended up in jail for aggravated assault. 

------------------

You sat in the police station, your head hung low. This was all your fault, none of this would’ve happened if you’d just-

“It’s not your fault,” Aaron whispered as he sat beside you, putting his cufflinks back on. Of course, you’d bailed him out and he’d gotten off with a warning and a fine, which was pretty good considering what he did to the guy. “Please don’t blame yourself.” 

You shook your head, willing yourself not to cry. “Aaron you got in a fight because of-”

“A choice I made to provoke a dangerous person,” he finished. “A choice I made.”

You nodded. “Aaron, your lip,” you placed a gentle hand on his cheek which he leaned into. His lip was split, he had a bruise forming on his head, and you knew his back was sore from the fight. You knew how hard Charles could hit. 

“My lip is fine, I promise. The paramedics gave me some painkillers. Are you alright?”

The dreaded question. No, you were hilariously, awfully, un-alright. You had to see Charles again, he touched you again, he talked to you again. You shook your head, tearing up.  Aaron didn’t shy away. He held you as you sobbed in that police precinct. He didn’t care about anyone staring, he didn’t care that the team was waiting outside, he didn’t care. He cared about you. You were all that mattered in that moment, and every moment after it.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[moonstruckme]

Hellooo!!! I have a Spencer Reid request, but feel free to ignore it if you're not up for it hahaha! I was thinking about BAU!Reader and maybe her and Spencer starting to mimic each other because they've been together for a while and spend so much time together? Like the way they talk, etc! I think it could be so so cute, especially if they don't realize they're doing it and the team noticing it for them? Thank you so much, I love everything that you write 🤍

Thanks gorgeous!

cw: discussion of tongue preservation methods? sorry in advance

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 560 words

You gaze lovingly at your boyfriend as he goes into detail about how to preserve severed tongues. 

“So the fact that this unsub is purchasing equipment actually shows a lack of medical expertise, since he seems to be going overboard with preservation measures.” Spencer’s nodding as he talks, a tiny scrunch between his brows. “It’s pretty silly actually. It’s probably only a matter of time until he figures out he just needs to keep them on ice.” 

Rossi’s eyebrows raise, and Morgan chuckles quietly. 

Spencer blinks, eyes refocusing as he comes out of his brain and back into the conference room. “What?”

“Did you just say the unsub was silly?” Prentiss asks, and his eyebrows refurrow. 

“Did I?” 

“Let’s stay on task.” Hotch is all business. “If he were as inexperienced as that would suggest, he probably wouldn’t make clean cuts. This skill level indicates some level of expertise.” 

“Well, actually, I’m not sure it would necessarily be medical expertise,” you say, cringing at your own knowledge. “The process he’s using doesn’t sound dissimilar to how I think they preserve cow tongues. Maybe he’s preparing them to eat.” 

You’re doing your best not to squirm, and Spencer can likely tell, placing a slender hand on your leg under the table. “That’s a good point,” he says, “he could have experience as a chef or in the meatpacking business.” 

Prentiss frowns. “Yeah, but how many chefs know how to preserve tongues?” 

“Maybe we could start by looking into restaurants that serve those kinds of delicacies,” JJ suggests. 

“Good.” Hotch closes his binder, standing. “Garcia, you get started on that and we’ll touch base with you from Atlanta. Wheels up in two hours.” 

“Yes sir.” Garcia looks a bit green—you sympathize—as she hurries out of the conference room. 

Morgan’s giving you one of his knowing looks, collecting his things extra slow, until finally you sigh. “What?” 

“Well, actually,” he mimics, lips curving into a grin. “You and pretty boy must be getting serious if you’re taking on his signature phrase.” 

You roll your eyes, but Spencer smiles, looping his crossbody bag over his head. “Actually, language style matching is only one form of mirroring. If you’re paying attention, people who spend a lot of time together can mirror each other down to their breathing rhythms or how many times they blink within a minute.” 

You look at him interestedly. “So what does that mean? Just that we’re spending too much time together?” 

The look Spencer gives you threatens to liquefy you with its softness. “There’s never too much time.” 

Morgan’s laughter is hooting, and you want to find that as cheesy as he does, you really do, but the place within yourself where you usually reach for sarcasm has gone mushy and useless. You rearrange some things in your bag unnecessarily, head down to hide your blush.

“Wow,” Morgan sighs happily, “I don’t know which one of you is more whipped.” 

This would normally be your opportunity to think of a retort, but luckily you don’t have to. JJ pops back into the room, looking frowny. 

“We just got a call from Atlanta. The unsub killed again overnight.” 

Spencer grows serious. “He’s accelerating?” 

“Yup.” She nods. “Hotch wants us there now, so it’s wheels up in twenty.” 

You and Spencer nod in tandem. “Sick.”

Morgan’s eyes roll straight up to the ceiling.

[alwaysanundertone]

Hey!!! Could you possible do marauders with reader who has a really bad fear of spiders, like she cries when she sees them and can’t sleep or panics at the thought, and a scene where the boys help her <3

An unpleasant encounter | poly! marauders x fem! reader

tw: mention of arachnophobia, spiders

comfort

You were reading on Sirius's bed, the sound of the rain outside creating the perfect atmosphere for a good reading session. Your boyfriends were somewhere in Hogwarts, pranking the poor first years, and now their dorm was pleasingly quet.

Your feet were dangling off of your bed, your book held in the air.

You were relaxed, finally winding down after an exhausting day of classes, when all of a sudden you spotted a furry, black creature crawling on your ceiling.

Your limbs froze, immediately recognizing the small animal for what it was: a spider. It wasn't even that big, not bigger than a coin, but still your brain short circuited as you saw it moving awkwardly, his little legs moving faster and faster until it hung directly over your head.

You jumped up, falling miserably on the ground on your ankle, while you still kept your eyes focused on its every movement, not wanting to lose it and find it on your bed later.

Your breath quickened, small teardrops collecting in your eyes as you saw his legs moving rapidly; you felt the panic engulfing you, like being trapped in a heavy blanket in the middle of august. It was overwhelming.

That's how your boyfriends found you, sprawled on the ground, your hand pressing down on the sore area right above your feet.

It was Remus who talked first. "Darling, what are you doing?"

You didn't speak, only raising your hand to point at the scary, black monster.

Sirius chuckled. "Love, I think he should be fearing you, a grown woman, then the other way around."

As soon as he reached for it, you released a screech. "Stop it Sirius! It's going to fall right on top of me and bite me and I'll die! You won't have a girlfriend anymore!"

You saw your boyfriends exchange a look, then James reached for your hand.

"Do you trust us, love?"

You reluctantly nodded, gaining a proud smile from him. "Perfect. Would you like to try something? We will stop as soon as you feel too uncomfortable"

As much as you didn't want to admit it, leaving with arachnophobia wasn't easy. You couldn't bring yourself to enjoy little picnic dates because you were scared of seeing some stupid spider and ruining it. You always felt like you were overreacting, but you couldn't help it.

You cringed as Remus picked up the lid of a discarded clear jewelry box from your desk, standing on top of your bed and proceeding to trap the little creature inside of it. He turned around, giving you an easy smile. "Do you feel comfortable enough to come near, darling?"

Sirius extended his hand, as soon as you took it he tugged you into his arms, making you gasp. “Hey there, love” He grinned, pecking your lips, a small smile forming on your own lips.

He turned you around, making a small gasp fall from your lips. “Just look at it for now, okay? I’ll be right here with you.”

Remus held the box tightly secured in his hands, you looked at the spider. At first all you could do was cringe as you saw his hairy legs move frantically to escape, you saw it moving around the small box, looking for a place go escape, coming out empty handed.

The more you looked at it, though, the more your feelings changed. A sort of compassion crawled its way to your chest, making you feel kind of… bad. Yes, of course the creature still scared you; yes, you still wouldn’t want it to be ANYWHERE near you.

Still, you didn’t want it to die no more. You started to hate the box, to find Remus hands cruel.

“Remus, free it outside. Don’t kill it. Please?”

He smiled at you fondly, nodding and making his way to the window.

You felt Sirius mouth breathing right next to your ear. “I’m so proud of you”

—-

taglist: @eeviee4 @sammyreid @sxmnc

Hi gorgeous souls I’m back ;) did you miss me? It’s been a crazy month 😭

[drghostwrite]

What Love Left Behind

Well I did it again… or at least I had some help from a special someone who knows who she is…

We found a quote that I want to use to write for everyone favorite obsession, Agatha Harkness…

“I asked her if she believed in love, and she told me it’s her most elaborate method of self-harm.”

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Warnings: smut… Minors DNI!!!!

********************************************************

The words came out so easily, it surprised even you.

“I love you.”

You and Agatha had decided on having a night in to yourselves, an intimate evening between two girlfriends. You found yourself cooking at the stove while Agatha filled you in on her latest witchy adventures.

You poured her another glass of wine and kissed her lips as she slid up onto the counter and you slid between her legs, your hands massaging into her thighs.

“Mm I could get used to this view…” she said in a sultry tone before bending to kiss you.

“Oh yeah?… me cooking for you or me trapped between these gorgeous legs?”

“Both… you belong with me darling, every part of  you.”

“I love you.” and there it was the atomic bomb that you just let slip.

Agatha froze, her sharp features momentarily softening into something unreadable. Then, just as quickly, her smirk returned, guarded and playful.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” she teased, her voice light but distant.

She didn’t say it back. Instead, she slid off the counter and padded into the couch, taking her wine glass. You tried to ignore the sting, but the silence between you grew heavier with every passing second.

Later that night, as you lay together in bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Agatha had been quieter than usual, her touch softer, almost hesitant. Normally, her hands would roam your body with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how to unravel you. Tonight, they rested idly, her fingers barely grazing your arm.

“Agatha,” you murmured, turning to face her. Her eyes met yours, her face unreadable in the dim light of the room.

“Yes, darling?” she replied, her voice smooth but distant.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just tired.”

You studied her carefully, noticing the tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw tightened ever so slightly. Agatha was a master at hiding her feelings, but you’d learned to see through the cracks in her armor.

“Agatha, don’t you dare try to spare me.”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away. “It’s not about you.”

You sat up, studying her closely. “Is it because I said I love you?”

Her breath hitched, and the mask slipped. She turned her head toward you, her expression startled, almost vulnerable. For a moment, you thought she might deny it, but then the weight of her silence answered for her.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you’ve been distant ever since,” you said softly. “Please, talk to me.”

Her hand came up to rub her forehead as she tried to look away, and when she spoke, her voice was low and guarded. “It’s not that, it’s just…” she began, but you shook your head.

“Just what?… Don’t do that,” you said gently. “Don’t dismiss it. Talk to me.”

She hesitated, her eyes searching yours before she exhaled shakily. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.” You nodded giving her the room to breathe.

Agatha sat up, her hands twisting in the sheets. “There was a woman once. Rio.” Her voice wavered, and you reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “I loved her. Trusted her. She was the first person who made me think… maybe I wasn’t as unlovable as my mother claimed I was... maybe I could be good… But she betrayed me. She took everything I gave her and left me hollow.”

Your heart ached as you listened, but you didn’t interrupt.

“And my mother…” Her voice cracked, and she took a moment to collect herself. “She believed I was born evil... That I would destroy everything I touched... She convinced the coven to believe it too. They tried to kill me.”

Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t stop. “Then there was Nicholas. My son.” She swallowed hard, her grip on your hand tightening. “I brought him into this world alone. Hid him, protected him,  even killed for him… I did everything I could to keep him safe. And still, I lost him. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever…”

The words broke off, her voice choked with emotion sobs wracked her frame as she shook, her hand grasping yours, afraid to let go.

Silence hung between you as you absorbed her pain, her grief. She finally looked at you, her expression fragile, tears cascading down her cheeks. 

“Do you see now? Love destroys me.”

You reached for her face, brushing away her tears with your thumb. 

“Do you believe me?”

“What?” she whispered.

“Do you believe that I love you?”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

You bent up so that your lips could kiss away the salty tears falling down her cheeks, your lips meeting her quickly but soft and gentle.

You shifted, straddling her lap, your hands cradling her face. “I love you, Agatha Harkness,” you said, your voice firm. “Every part of you. Your past, your pain, your scars. I see it all, and I love you.”

“Y/N…” she said breathlessly.

“Do you believe in love?… our love?” You asked against her lips.

Her hands gripped your waist tightly, her breathing uneven. “It’s my most elaborate method of self-harm,” she admitted, her voice trembling.

You leaned in, pressing your forehead to hers. “Not anymore… You don’t have to hurt anymore. Not with me…. I’ll love you, protect you, cherish you. Always.”

Her nails dug into the sensitive skin of your hips, pulling you closer as her lips found yours. The kiss was deep, raw, and filled with a need that made your heart ache.

Slowly you pushed her back, her hair falling in a halo around her, your hand pressing into the pillow beside her head, your other hand running down her side as you moved down her body.

You began to worship her body with slow, reverent kisses, murmuring against her skin. “I love this,” you said, tracing the line of her jaw.

“And this,” you whispered, kissing the hollow of her throat, then trailing to her collarbone, then you followed down her chest, kissing the valley between her breasts.

You allowed your lips to briefly meet an erect nipple, your tongue flicking over it. A small whimper pulling from her lips as her hand ran through your hair.

“I love the way when I run my hands up your side you melt…” you said kissing over her ribs, your hands gripping into the soft skin of her sides.

“I love that you once carried a beautiful baby boy…” you kissed over her bare stomach, taking her hand in yours and intertwining your fingers, “I love that one day you could carry our baby…”

You heard her breath hitch and her hand twitched against yours.

“I love your thighs and how I can mark them…” you said bending down, slowly spreading her legs and laying in between them… you nipped at them with your teeth before running your tongue over the spot and then sucking making sure to leave a few marks to be found later.

“I love the gorgeous sounds that you make for me when I do things like this…” you bent down pulling her underwear aside and placing a soft kiss to her clit, hearing a small moan slip past her lips.

“Y/N, love…” she trailed.

“Tell me what you need Agatha…”

“I need you…” she whispered almost as a final plea.

“Mm, I’m right here pretty girl…” you moaned against her, slowly puling her panties off and tossing them behind you.

you looked down to see her glistening folds, already so wet for you, but you didn’t want to tease, you wanted to let her know how much you worshipped her.

“So wet for me… god you’re fucking beautiful…” you said running your tongue flat against her, tasting her. Watching her head fall back against the pillow, but her hand stayed intertwined with yours, her fingers squeezing yours as if your hand was a lifeline.

You swirled your tongue around her sensitive clit before dipping back down to collect more of her on your tongue. You could hear her breaths getting shorter and more on even.

“such a goddess…” you moaned against her. Her hips bucking up into you for more, you could tell she was getting close.

“darling, I-I…” she started, usually you would make her wait… make her hold out for as long as possible, but not this time, no you wanted her to take everything she needed. You didn’t care that her hips rocked unsteadily against your mouth, or how she ground hard against your tongue, but you loved the way she sat up her face contorted in pleasure only to let her piercing blue eyes meet yours.

“Y/N…” she panted breathlessly, trying to keep eye contact.

“Cum for me Agatha…” with that she finally reached her high, her back arching slightly as her orgasm took over, her thighs snapping closed around you aside from your arm stopping her as you still held her hand.

you stayed like that for awhile, waiting for her body to relax before you crawled back up to lay next to her. She leaned in her forehead finding the crook of your neck as your fingers lazily traced patterns on her back and arms.

“Agatha Harkness…” you whispered her full name, pulling her attention as she leaned to look into your eyes, you reached brushing a stray piece hair out of her face.

“Hmm?” She hummed studying your eyes.

“I love you.”

She moved to face you more but this time her piercing blue eyes were hopeful.

“I love you too.”

“All of you, Agatha. Every single piece… your heart is mine to protect and that what I’m going to do… Loving you has never been easier… you deserve to be loved like this, and I intend to prove that to you.”

Tears slid down her cheeks, but this time, they weren’t just from pain. They were from the hope she thought she’d lost, the love she never believed she deserved.

And as you held her that night, as you loved her with every fiber of your being, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, love didn’t have to destroy her after all.

After all maybe she was good, and she found the one person that saw that good no matter what.

[katherines-imagines]

Her Pretty Girl

pairings: hazel callahan x reader

warnings: insults, stupid Jeff, bad writing

summary: Hazel’s girlfriend calls her Pretty Girl every time.

It was the day after the game, and the fight club planned a celebratory meeting for saving the day. As the girls filed in, Hazel and her girlfriend walked in hand and hand. As everyone got seated, Josie spoke up.

“Well, that was some pretty fucked up shit.” The girls nodded at the statement. They had killed, after headcount, all of the football players. Collectively, they had decided to never mention that part.

“Fuck yeah, we slayed those players,” Sylvie yelled aggressively. The girls laughed and nodded, high-fiving each other.

“Yo where’s the snacks,” PJ asked confused. A gasp came from Hazel’s side, their heads turned towards the sounds.

“I am so sorry, I left it in my last class,” Y/N apologized. “I’ll go grab it.” She stood up, hand leaving Hazels.

“Do you want me to go,” Hazel asked sweetly. Shaking her head, Y/N smiled in appreciation.

“Thank you, but I’ve got it pretty girl, love ya” Y/N said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek before leaving the gym. As Hazel’s eyes followed Y/N’s leaving figure, she heard a snicker come from PJ.

“Gosh, what kind of nickname was that,” PJ asked rudely. Holding back an eye roll, Hazel turned to PJ before answering.

“The nickname a lover gives. I know you wouldn’t know, so I’m glad I could clear it up for you,” Hazel said with a smirk. The girls laughed as PJ blushed in embarrassment. If Hazel was being honest with herself, she was still upset with PJ. Yes, she had said she forgiven her, but she had just wanted to get it over with. Originally, Hazel had felt guilty, but Y/N had told her that she had no reason to be, going on about how PJ was a ‘stupid bitch’.

“No, but really,” PJ interrupted Hazel’s thoughts. “Why in the hell does she call you that?” All the girls turned to Hazel, ready for the story. Hazel opened her mouth to speak before she paused. When had Y/N start calling her pretty girl? Blinking, Hazel thought about when it had started.

“Well,” Hazel started. “For as long as I can remember knowing her, she’s always called me pretty girl.” They had gotten together during summer, their first ‘official date’ had been the festival, the day before school. “She always called me hun, like she does to everyone she cares.” The girls nodded in agreement. Everyone who was everyone knew that when talking with people she cared about, she always called them by their name, and hun. “Sometimes she called me sweets,” Hazel added. Huh, Y/N really did call her by lots of pet names.

“But we wanna know why she calls you pretty girl,” Annie said impatiently.

“Yeah, come on,” Isabel agreed, holding Josie’s hand. Hazel rolled her eyes playfully at the impatience from the group.

“Seriously, I don’t remember-” Hazel stopped mid sentence.

“What,” Brittany asked. Hazel did remember.

“It was the beginning of freshman year..”

It was a normal day. As usual, Jeff was being a dick and pushing Hazel around. Hazel kept her head down, if she kept her mouth shut, the bullying would be over faster. Everyone usually ignored Jeff’s bullying, hoping to stay out of his trail of fear. Not Y/N though.

“Your so ugly,” Jeff said with cruelty. Hazel winced subtly. That definitely did not help with her self esteem.

“You shut your mouth,” a voice said, stepping in front of Hazel. The person put themself in between her and Jeff. It was her darling Y/N. Well, not her Y/N, at least not at the time, but Hazel still liked her. “She is the prettiest, gorgeous, most stunning girl in school, hell, in the whole freaking world!” From what Hazel could see from behind, she could hear and see her fuming.

“Ugh,” Jeff whined. “No fun, this is too much work.” Jeff snapped for his goonies to follow him out, not wanting to do extra work. As he left, Y/N turned to Hazel with concern.

“Hey, are you ok,” she asked softly. No one had every spoken so kindly to Hazel, and it didn’t help the fact that she was gorgeous.

“I-I’m ok,” Hazel stuttered back, avoiding eye contact. Suddenly two hands grabbed her face and brought it near Y/N’s face. Too close. Hazel couldn’t help the blush coming onto her face.

“He is wrong, Haze. You are not ugly,” Y/N said firmly. Haze laughed sarcastically, looking away from Y/N.

“It’s ok, I know I’m not the prettiest,” Hazel tried to play off, but Y/N would not hear anymore of that. Y/N held Hazel’s face firmer, forcing Hazel to look at her.

“Listen here, Hazel Callahan. You are the most stunning, gorgeous, most dazzling girl I’ve ever met. You, are a very pretty girl.” Y/N was fully prepared to continue to rant, but she noticed tears in Hazel’s eyes. “Haze,” she said softly, wiping away her tears. “I will tell you every day, of what a pretty girl you are until you believe me. And I’ll continue to tell you, even after that.” Hazel couldn’t stop a few tears slip past her eyes.

“Do you really mean that,” Hazel asked softly. Nodding, Y/N pulled the crying girl into a hug.

“Of course, pretty girl.” That was the day Hazel realized that she loved Y/N. She wanted to be girlfriends.

“And since then, she’s been calling me pretty girl,” Hazel said, wiping her eyes. Some tears had slipped while recalling the beautiful moment. She had never taken Jeff’s words to heart, but hearing Y/N fighting for her to know she was pretty? It meant the world to her. A loud sob broke the silence causing Hazel to snap out of her thoughts. The group was crying, moved by her darling Y/N.

“That was too fucking cute,” Sylvie cried. Hazel nodded, a loving smile on her face.

“I’m not gay, but I would date her if she was single,” Brittany added. The gym doors opened to show the center of attention herself, Y/N.

“Hey, I brought all the snacks,” Y/N said, motioning to the wagon full of snacks she was wheeling. The girls gave a collective ‘awe’, leaving a confused look on the girl’s face. Hazel walked towards Y/N to help bring the snacks. “Thank you, pretty girl,” Y/N smiled sweetly. The girls screamed at the reference, leaving a confused look on Y/N’s face. Hazel couldn’t help it, she grabbed her girlfriend and kissed her, getting kissed back with vigor. When Hazel pulled back, Y/N gave a dazed look of love. “What was that for, pretty girl?”

“Nothing, just wanted to kiss you,” Hazel said nonchalantly. Blushing, Y/N looked away and started unpacking the snacks. As Hazel stared at her girlfriend while PJ walked up to her.

“You’re really whipped, huh,” PJ elbowed Hazel knowingly. Hazel hummed in agreement. She was head over heals for Y/N. “You’re her pretty girl, aren’t ya?”

Yes. Hazel was her pretty girl.

A/N: I actually liked this one a lot. Hope you all liked this one! If you have any requests, please send them :)

[1-800-local-slut]

Teen Witch

This is just angst; you and Stiles break up lol. Look I know it's kinktober but I needed a break from writing porn, but we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programing tomorrow!

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Your new carpet, ruined. How was it ruined? Your boyfriend's best friend was currently bleeding out on it, and you were very very upset with him. You'd told him so many times if he needed your help, that he needed to call first. Not break into your fucking house and make so much noise that you had to thank your lucky stars that your parents weren't home- yet.

Back to Scott, he was currently seizing on your carpet and that was a problem. In addition to the blood, he was now vomiting. A lot. They owed you two hundred dollars like right now. You grumbled, as you attempted to stabilize the seizing teenager, and Alison was holding Scott's hand while Isaac attempted to hold the new alpha in place.

It was no easy feat, he was foaming at the mouth, eyes crazed and glowing while he swung through the air almost scratching one of your eyes out. You yelped as you got down onto your knees to try and help as much as you could. What was wrong with him in the first place?

You barked out the question as you pulled out a box from under your bed. It was sealed, a sigil you had drawn with your own blood and ashes from your most recent spell after a breach through your bedroom's defenses against Ms. Blake. Opening the box, you pulled out a healing potion that you created just a few days ago when your dearest friend Lydia Martin had jumped out of her sleep muttering about 'wells' and 'ice cubes'. Now, you were no banshee but that couldn't have been a good sign from her.

"Hold his head so I can pour this into his mouth." You ordered Stiles, who was standing there a bit worthlessly at the moment. Dropping to his knees besides you, his hand brushed up against your thighs, which was a startling reminder that this happened in the middle of the night because you liked white men.

You were woken up out of your sleep in the middle of the night by Stiles standing over your bed, with that gorgeous nervous smile. It would be cute if Stiles had a key to your house or your window didn't have a steel bat holding your window open for Isaac to shove the seizing Scott through it while Allison barricaded your bedroom door.

As you poured the clear liquid down Scott's throat, and while Stiles held his snarling face in his hands, Scott really was a bit too strong for his britches. And naturally that was a problem for you. You just repaired your bedroom, which doubled as your sanctuary. Where your spell books, plants, herbs, collections, crystals, ashes, everything, were held. Where a witch rests her head at night is incredibly important.

After you had a rather rough squabble with Jennifer Blake, you had some serious repairs to make and not even a day later, Stiles was pushing someone into your bedroom window.

You couldn't have Scott destroy everything you literally just rebuilt. After all your parents were mad enough when you had to go out and pick out all of the herbs from your mothers garden.

With a small syringe, you gently turned his head over to the side and lined up with his shaking form. He was trembling and eyes were glazing over, blue liquid (?) leaking out of his mouth. You would've left him this way if not for the tremors getting more intense. What looked like rabies was not clearing up with the help of your potion. In fact, it just helped his physical ailments, but did not do much for his mental state. Without throwing up and growling he'd certainly be able to focus enough to take out one of your eyes like he almost did when they got his head down flat on a pillow.

"What is that?" Allison asked as you sunk the needle slowly into his neck and focused.

"Concentrated mountain ash." Like a vaccine almost. It was just enough to slow him down but not kill him. Maybe a little bit more for the brand-new true Alpha. Stiles winced beside you, preparing for the uproar of disapproval from Allison and Isaac. You were a bit new to town, so they weren't really used to you yet.

In the sense of, you and your family were the first witches to come to Beacon Hills in six hundred years. They were all so used to the gentle and kind nature of their emissary the lovely Alan Deaton. You were not gentle. You were a witch, loyal to yourself. And that meant drugging one of your friends to keep him from hurting you and possibly destroying your house.

Nice and gentle druids, healers who would never harm others intentionally. Kind and wise, who dedicated themselves to being helpful and supportive guides to the supernatural community around them.

Not witches. Wicked witches who cursed and hexed. Wicked witches who had the power to heal and destroy. To give and take. Wicked witches who weren't interested in getting clawed apart to save some people who think you're nothing short of evil.

So, when you came to town and were the shining star of Beacon Hills after just a few weeks they knew something was up.

Stiles, ever attracted to women who could kill him with a hard glare, fell for you faster than you could telepathically throw someone across the room.

So now, four months later, Allison was gaping at you in disbelief for poisoning her situ-relation-boyfriend-ex, whatever was going on, you didn't really care to know. Whenever Stiles tried explaining it to you, you just told him you didn't really care and went back to making out with him. And why would Stiles be mad about that?

Scott stopped struggling, the mixture of plants slowed his heart rate enough to fall into a fit full sleep. Now, the issue was your carpet turning a really nasty and wet shade of purple. Literally filled with the mixture from Scott's body. Just disgusting.

"Get this mess off of my floor, and someone is running me two hundred dollars for my carpet."

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"Okay. So, he got super rabies. And you brought him to my house?" Scott was now resting in your tub, wearing only his boxers as you had a big t-shirt he could fit into but nothing else, after you had hosed him down in your shower.

He was sweating profusely, and he muttered something about 'falling down' it was odd. You scratched your head, your bonnet sliding down your forehead. It was 1:52 in the morning.

Literally awful. Your bathroom floors were cold, it was cold in general, and they were just in your house. Allison had a slightly cold look in her eyes. The Argent girl no doubt heard about your kind. Heard about your family. And while you two had communicated before, there was no doubt she was seeing where the rumors came from now.

If Wicked Witch had a defined photo, it would be your ancestors. Your great grandma, your grandma, your aunts and cousins, your mother, and now you. You wouldn't call it wicked. More so, ambition that other creatures think to be a hindrance.

If you were so wicked, you would've tossed them all out of your house the moment you saw Stiles grinning over you. But you loved Stiles, so you could stop being devious for long enough to lend a hand. This was a bit much to ask of you though.

Lately, you and Stiles were going through something of a rough patch. You only saw each other during what seemed like moments of high stress. When you were helping Deaton, creating some sort of spell or object for the pack, or saving a life. Or running for yours.

That obviously didn't help a relationship, which often resulted in you two screaming at each other on the car ride home. And the makeup sex was starting to no longer be worth losing your energy. Was it great? Yes, but you'd like to have sex with your boyfriend without having to scream at him. Like that embarrassing spat last week where you yelled 'I hate you don't talk to me' in front of everyone and then stole his car keys forcing him to walk all the way to your house in order to get home.

The sex that night? Magical. He really gave his all into apologizing to you.

This was another fight. Because when Stiles didn't consider you, it hurt. There were boundaries- you had boundaries- and none of them seemed to understand that. Why would you want to be woken up like this? Perhaps you'd be less cross if he had stuck to his promise of making more time for you and being a bit more considerate of you having to clean up his messes. Considering he made the promise last night, you truly hoped this time it would last longer. Perhaps this just was not for you.

Pinching the bridge of your nose and taking a deep breath, you shook your head. Isaac and Allison stood in your bedroom, whispering amongst themselves, while Scott laid unconscious in the tub. Steadying yourself, you looked at Stiles who was sitting with his head down on the edge of the tub.

"Do I look like a vet?"

"...Well considering recent events-" The words died on his lips, when he saw you tearfully looking at him. Why were you crying? Because you just noticed the crack in your floor from when Scott jumped awake while you were transporting him to the tub. And once again, you realized you'd have to clean that up. Oh, also you noticed Stiles grabbing his keys in his jacket pocket. Was he about to run off and leave Scott with you here? Where was he even about to go?

Here you were, with your AP Bio test first thing tomorrow morning and your boyfriend pushed you across the line once more. How many more emergencies would fall on you? It wasn't his fault. He joined a pack. But there was a certain point that things reached.

"...This isn't working Stiles." Allison and Isaac stopped the whispering, at your low voice. Both of them turned their head to look into your bathroom where you had your arms wrapped around your stomach and had fat tears rolling down your face.

Stiles gaped in disbelief and shook his head slightly before he swallowed thickly. Glancing behind you he got up and shook out his shoulders before he closed the door to the bathroom. This was one conversation he couldn't have any one witness. And Scott was knocked out in the tub, so he hardly counted.

"There's a line Stiles. And you guys crossed it again and again. You promised me last night that you would try setting harder boundaries. You just broke into my room and my new carpet is ruined. You couldn't call? You know anytime of night you call; I answer, you text I respond. I was fine doing all of this when it felt like we were together. When we did things together. Stiles, when was the last time you took me out to dinner, when's the last time we went out on a date, when's the last time I've seen you without everyone attached to you?

You aren't even my boyfriend anymore, you're some guy who I see sometimes when he needs help. Like I'm some sort of booty call except we haven't been having any good sex either because I haven't seen you. And when we do see each other, we just fight. Or have really angry sex that I don't even enjoy anymore." It came out a soft whisper, eyes watering and lip quivering. Staring down at the floor you couldn't even look at him. You couldn't do it.

This was for the two of you. You weren't happy. Nothing he did could make up for it after tonight. You can't push that on him, that's just cruel. He swallowed thickly and you heard his voice breaking. Was he crying? Oh no. Please do not cry.

"I feel like you're only seeing my friends as a hindrance. They're your friends too you know. And it's not fair that you can refer to them that way when all they've done is try to be nice to you. We have people we have to help, and I know things are hard right now, but you know I care about you. It's just right now we're both in some difficult situations."

"That is not the issue. I do love our friends, I do. Their great. But why are you all in my house right now. When I have told you so many times not to do this. First it was a little pop in from time to time. Then it was staying over really late. You said the exact same thing to me last night when our one movie night was crashed. Now it's this. I don't think it's your fault. I think you shouldn't be with me right now Stiles. I don't know if you don't have the time, don't want to make the time or can't make the time, I don't know. But I don't want to keep waiting for you to figure it out."

Stepping away from his outstretched arm when he wanted to pull you closer. Flinching he withdrew his hand when he saw you put your hand up to stop him.

"There are boundaries. I have boundaries-

"And I pushed them again." He finished, the sentence you'd been repeatedly screaming at him over and over again since the issues between you two arose.

Then it was over. The first conversation you two had in over a month that didn't end in screaming, tears, fighting, the both of you insisting you'd never let the other go, and instead of you two having a normal talk it was you two breaking up.

And your rug was still ruined.

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[angelsberrymilk]

Hi dear!

I just discovered your Soldier Boy x Sam fics... and oh boy.. this was tense...

Would you mind writing some jealous Soldier Boy? Because i can't imagine that he wants to share his little Boy... (maybe with some Butcher or someone else who is flirting with Sam?)

Best wishes

thanks so much for the ask, anon 💚 Hope you'll like it! 💚💚

characters: Sam Winchester, Soldier Boy, Hughie, Annie, MM, Butcher, Kimiko, Frenchie

tw: homophobic SB, drug use, canon-typical SB behaviour

before any of you come for my neck, you can be both gay and spew homophobic shit. soldier boy is not gay tho, I don't think he is, but he is a fucking freak and doesnt care about sexuality or where his dick goes. he's a loser and likes to make people feel bad.

suggestive content ahead

💚 I'm not sure exactly HOW soldier boy and Sam crossed paths. Maybe Soldier Boy was walking by the side of the road, to another state because he doesn't have cash and a LOT of things changed since in the time he was on ice. so walking it is. and then maybe the sky ripped in half and Sam fell in his arms.

💚 maybe soldier boy decides that he may need some help and reaches out to The Boys to figure it out. They don't believe Sam at the beginning. They think he's lying to them or just maybe fell on his head. Sam is desperate to be believed and Hughie is like, “Hm, let's assume what you say is true, we don't have any way of bringing you back home, so all we can do at the moment is keep you safe, if you stick around…”

💚 Soldier Boy maybe contemplates leaving Sam in their hands, but at the end he doesn't, because Sam is attached to him, he says he'll stay with him, go with him, because back at home he's his older brother. And really, soldier has nothing better to do. so he sticks around with Sammy and The Boys. 

💚 Sammy is immediately liked by Kimiko, he quickly learns her sign language so they can talk, and she likes him for that, she even starts to consider him her friend. 

💚 Meanwhile Soldier Boy isn't very happy that Sammy is not spending as much time with him as he said he would. He glares at the woman everytime she walks by and he aggressively smokes 6 joints in a day, stinking up the place with the smell of weed and whatever drug he has rolled in there.

💚 Hughie likes Sammy too. appreciates his energy and knowledge. he's fun to talk to and not as aggressive as some of the rest *ahem* Butcher *ahem*. Hughie quickly asks him to tag along when he goes on errands, and has to be reminded to not yap about anything and everything to Sammy, after all, they weren't totally sure if Sam wasn't a cop or a secret agent. even tho no one believes he is, Butcher does, and whatever Butcher says, goes. 

💚 Soldier Boy grumbles everytime Hughie aks Sammy if he'd like to tag along to go collect a package, so he turns to Annie and complains, “Tell your fucking twink to stop dragging Sammy with him everywhere he goes, he'll get him killed!”

💚 Soldier Boy also just broods around, he would harass them for his own sick pleasure but he had to behave if he wanted them to help his new little friend, Sammy, so he stays put, glares at them, insults them to get on their nerves, and tries to pry as much information out of Sammy about his brother, Dean, as possible. 

💚 Soldier Boy would also see red if anyone flirts w his boy. Frenchie is pretty touchy, his love language is physical contact, he's kind, he's funny and he's smart. Men and women like him. and Frenchie happened to be a bit of a sucker for broad shoulders and puppy eyes. Oh, he liked Sam the second he saw him. He loved his little mole, his sharp nose, his sad eyes, soft hair and big, giant body of his. He was gorgeous. 

💚 and so when he notices that Sammy was stressed and in need of some relief, he offers to smoke with him, Sammy at first declines in a polite manner, but then at some point he agrees, because at this point, he has nothing to lose and he hasn't slept properly in 3 days. So he sits down next to Frenchie and they take turns smoking a joint. Frenchie watches the man’s shoulders sag, he watches him start to loosen up a bit, then he starts to whine and mumble all sorts of nonsense, he giggles and paws at Frenchie. And before their lips meet Soldier Boy barges in and hauls Sam over his shoulder, throws some homophobic slurs towards Frenchie and leaves. and Frenchie shouts behind him, “You're only calling me that because you're mad you want to fuck him too!”

💚 And Ohhh when Butcher realises Sammy is a smartypants and can manage just fine on his own in a fight? He quickly tries to convert him to the mission, tries to get him involved in their plans. Butcher realises how valuable he could be when he can hack security cameras, can shoot whatever firearm you give him and is well read and strong and pretty and smart and sooo smart and–

💚 “I brought him here for some help, not so you can bust in your pants when he opens his mouth, you pervert,”

💚 MM will also like Sammy. he likes his big brain and resourcefulness. I just didn't go into super detail because MM has a history with Soldier Boy and will try to kill him at any given chance. His storyline with Soldier Boy hurt me a lot and I feel horrible for what happened to his family at the hands of Soldier Boy, a racist piece of shit. MM is the only one really trying to convince Sam to leave Soldier Boy, that he's a monster, and the angst of it all, ohhh it hurts!!! it hurts!!!!! 

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tags

@klingyklaus @toasty-broski @28confusedthoughts @winchesterdefender @blackkmariah @106skin @redpopcat @arwenadreamer @nguyetdahuong @asongfortheunloved @rancidlovers @bcatwinchest @supfan67 @unabashedhonesty @hellfire-fist @nanacupid @arthrodira @loserluizard @jocelynfan @waywardsamdean @sastielbeltscene @sam-sinchester @masoena @winchestermylove @sammybeann @azrielrose @saltmonellas @boypussysam @monkibizznes @daddysboydean @notanotherthembo @i-already-know-im-going-2-hell @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @katamcauley @sams-princess-hair @redcl8ver @yuetyin940 @loserluizard @arthrodira @runawaydr3amerao3 @giulmu @palepuppytimetravel @waynesmywife @rerejunebug @winbred @friendlyneighbourhoodfreak

[lovelybeesthings]

Ray of sunchine

Coriolanus Snow x reader

Word count: 1.7k

Context: Little drabble about the scene where Coriolanus freaks out in the forest with a sweet ending. one-shot

As I go fetch some flowers in the forest humming to my own tune I had originally left the cabin and went outside in the rain for Katniss but then I got easily distracted by the way the gorgeous flower looked I doubt that Coriolanus will worry I think myself.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus begins to panic about not being able to find Y/n as he holds the rifle in his hands, tracking her steps in the fresh mud, she wouldn't run away from him, right? I mean after everything he did for her after what he's sacrificed.

As he followed the foot tracks he saw his mother's scarf lying on the ground, he got on his knees and brought the scarf up to his nose to smell the scent of roses but as he did he got bitten by a small snake adding more to the burning fire.

“Is this poison?” he says panicked “Y/n! Are you trying to kill me” he shouts “I SAID ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME” he shouts much louder losing it he brings the rifle in his hands to where the mockyjays started to mimic her humming.

His arm bleeding from the bite of the small snake from the scarf.

As Y/n picks a bit more and makes her flower crowns she gets up and goes back to her trail to the cabin she hears shouting and the sound of the riffle going off. Worried she runs to where the noise is coming from seeing Coriolanus on the ground the riffle positioned to her.

Y/n is worried and confused she lifts her hands holding the flower crowns “Coryo what happened why did you start shooting the mockingjays?” she says in her voice in a honey-toned manner her voice claiming him down.

“Where were you!” he says in a panic “I got distracted and was collecting flowers to make some flower crowns, why were you shooting?” she responds examining his face and then checking to see if he was okay noticing his bite mark.

“Coryo your arm is bitten we need to treat it right away!” she says quickly on her knees beside him examining the bite as he calms down the voices that linger in his mind disappear.

“Let's head back to the cabin I think we can treat your wound and talk about what happened okay? Would you like that” Y/n tells him as he nods in response he holds her hand as they both back together to the cabin.

(explaining)

“So you thought I was trying to leave you?” She says as she cleans his wound with alcohol and then wraps it with bandages as he hides his head being foolish to think that.

“Croyo could it be you're just scared to leave I mean we can back to Distract twelve and dump the ruffles in the lake”

Croyo nods as he is happy to hear Y/n can sense his doubts “I like that plan” he responds as she smiles kissing his forehead as his hands make it to her waist.

“I promise when I go back to the Capitol I'll bring you with me,” Coriolanus says as he buries his face in her chest for comfort, causing her to let a giggle out

“Alright I mean there's nothing for me here I'm sure Lucy could take care of the convey on her own!” she says as she pulls his head up kissing his lips.

Epilogue: C.S. becomes president and his wife Y/n Snow rule over the Panem peacefully ending the hunger games and the Capitol and Districts live in Union as equals.

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg, part 2 of sevika x masc reader, childhood friends to lovers pleaseeee!!! It's so cute I love it omggg, okay imma give a scenario, they're aged up now, but still teens, and they do badass, and mischievous shit, and maybe it's their idea of a first date heh ☺️ You're amazing angel, I love theseee!!!

HEHEHEHEHEH i'm so glad u guys like this one, i was a tomboy as a kid and writing this story is healing something inside me

men and minors dni

sevika gives you a skeptical look. "and you're sure it'll work?"

you huff and roll your eyes. sevika thinks that because she's got a year on you she knows everything. "would you just trust me?"

"i just don't wanna give you an infection and be the reason you die or something."

you giggle and lean forward, kissing her worried frown. "that's why we got the alcohol-- to sanitize everything. and we run the needles through a flame before, too-- it kills the germs."

sevika's still squinting skeptically, but at least now she's blushing from the kiss.

you roll your eyes. "i'll let you do me first, if you're so nervous." you offer. sevika finally smiles. you grin and pull your shirt off.

sevika's staring right at your tits when you fling your shirt away. you giggle, and she kicks you in embarrassment. "you've seen them before, baby."

"i-i just-- shut up!" sevika huffs, pushing you down onto your back. you laugh, blinking up at the twinkling multicolored lights of your hideout.

you feel your own nervous embarrassment grow as sevika straddles your waist and stares down at your chest. she's heavy and warm and firm, and she's blinking down at you with her gorgeous silver eyes, a nervous glimmer behind them as she looks at you.

"okay." sevika whispers. "where do you want it?" she asks.

you grin and tap the top of your left tit. "right over my heart. duh."

sevika rolls her eyes. "that's so fucking corny." she whines. you grin.

"yeah, well, where are you gonna put yours?" you ask.

sevika's eyes dart away from yours and she mumbles. "s-same place, i guess."

you take one big swig off the bottle you'd stolen before handing it to sevika and letting her begin her work.

she gently soaks a cotton pad in the alcohol, wipes your chest clean. she sets up the supplies on your stomach, paper towels and ink and packaged needles. and when she's finally ready, she leans down and presses her lips to your chest, her black lipstick leaving a perfect kiss mark over your heart.

you giggle in excitement, then jump at the first poke of her needle. sevika pouts.

"does it hurt?" she asks, worried. you shrug. she tsks and smacks your shoulder. "don't move!"

you giggle. "it... just feels like a lot of scratches happening at once."

sevika hums along to the music you've got playing on the radio as she works, and you stare up at her, simply admiring your best friend.

when you'd asked a few weeks ago if sevika'd ever get a tattoo, her answer was a hard 'no.' she hates needles, and she's not really an artistic type.

but once you told her your idea for the one you wanted-- a permanent reminder of her love, her kiss etched into your skin for eternity-- sevika seemed enchanted with the idea.

which is how you ended up here. it takes a long time, and by the end, the top of your tit feels like it's on fire. but still, it's all worth it for the smile it pulls out of sevika when she admires her handiwork.

when she hands you a mirror and lets you look, you tear up a bit.

"wh--what?! do you regret it, did i do it wrong!?"

you laugh as you sit up and wrap sevika in a hug, nuzzling your nose against the crook of her neck and shoulder. "i love you." you say shakily. "it's perfect."

sevika sighs and kisses your head. "well, don't fuckin' cry, i need your vision clear so you don't fuck up mine." she huffs, kissing you one more time before flopping onto her back and unbuttoning her own shirt. you giggle and start collecting the supplies for sevika's tattoo.

she helps you apply her lipstick to your own lips-- you don't trust yourself to make it pretty-- the most makeup you ever wear is the remnants of sevika's that gets smudged onto your skin during a makeout session.

she giggles when she finishes applying the lipstick. "you look good."

you grin. "yeah? should i get my own tube of black?"

sevika rolls her eyes. "it's not black, it's coffee brown. i'm not, like, emo, or anything." you raise a disbelieving eyebrow at your girlfriend and she huffs in embarrassment. "whatever. just hurry up and kiss me already."

you laugh, bending down to press one clean, perfect kiss to her tit. when you pull away, you grin at your mark, then bend down to barrage her face with sloppy, uncorrdinated kisses. sevika squeals and bursts into laughter, half-heartedly shoving you away.

"close your eyes." you demand as you pick up a clean needle for her. sevika huffs.

"i wanna watch. you got to make goo-goo eyes at me the whole time."

you snort. "you're scared of needles, dummy, so close your eyes. you can stare at me when we've got you all tatted up and matching me."

sevika huffs and closes her eyes.

you feel bad poking your girlfriend so repeatedly, especially when she's clearly cringing in pain. but, once you get into the groove of it, sevika relaxes, and eventually she's asleep underneath you.

you giggle, kissing sevika's cheek to wake her up when you're finished.

she wakes up with a snort, and then she breaks into a grin. "d'ya finish?" she asks.

you hand her the mirror, watching in anticipation for your girlfriend's reaction.

sevika grins and bursts into laughter, before tossing the mirror away and pulling you down to kiss her. you hum happily against her lips.

"this means we're for real best friends forever now. y' can't lose a tattoo like you lost our friendship bracelet." sevika says. you cackle.

"how long are you gonna hold that over me?! i didn't mean to lose it-- i was eight!"

"i was only nine and i kept mine in perfect condit--" you cut her off with a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

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@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys

[stluciabuns]

The Historical Accuracy of Kirsten's Dirndl

Despite its adorableness, I have seen many people complain about Kirsten's Swedish Dirndl outfit.

I would kill a man to have bought this for $22.

She wears this outfit for most of Meet Kirsten, being that she is an impoverished immigrant child who does not own any other clothes, and also for continuity reasons.

Frequently, I have seen it claimed that this outfit is not historically accurate and should not have been included as part of her collection. Conversely, I have also seen many German folk costumes marketed as being made for Kirsten. Both of these pain me a great deal (actually they just annoy me).

Nonetheless, I have decided to further procrastinate doing actual, meaningful work and instead set out on a new mission: figure out what the fuck is up with Kirsten's Dirndl.

In this post, I will lay out the research I have done, the evidence supporting the historical accuracy of this outfit, the challenges to its existence, and ultimately aim to answer the question of whether this outfit is one Kirsten plausibly could have worn on her journey from Sweden to America in 1854.

Let's begin.

First, the name. Pleasant Company/American Girl referred to this outfit as "Kirsten's Swedish Dirndl and Kerchief."

Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a Swedish dirndl. "Dirndl" is a German term, and refers to folk costumes worn by people in German-speaking areas of Europe (the Alps, Bavaria, Austria, and so on).

Kirsten is Swedish, and before Meet Kirsten has never left Sweden before. It is very unlikely she would have acquired, and regularly worn, a German dirndl. See this gorgeous example of a dirndl c. 1840:

Outfit, c. 1840. Munich, Bavaria, Germany. Münchner Stadtmuseum.

This ensemble is beautiful, but tragically, it is not what Kirsten is wearing.

What, then, is Kirsten wearing? What kind of traditional dress does Swedish culture have?

As it turns out, the proper term for what she is wearing is a folkdräkt. This is a Swedish term meaning "folk costume." Here is an illustration depicting multiple examples of Swedish folk costumes. In proper terms, these would be called "Svenska folkdräkter."

Nordisk familjebok (1908), vol. 8, Folkdräkt. Retrieved from runeberg.org.

These outfits are not quite identical to anything we see in Kirsten's collection, but you can observe various elements that have carried over -- the vertical stripes, black woolen skirts with ornate trim, and white dresses and red sashes (hello St. Lucia)!

Let us dive deeper. What do extant Svenska folkdräkter, specially those made c. 1850, look like? Is there anything like Kirsten's outfit among surviving examples?

Johan Sodermark, "Kvinna i dräkt."

In my few hours of research, this example image is the closest thing I have found to Kirsten's dirndl.

This lovely portrait is a watercolor from 1850 painted by Johan Sodermark. It is very creatively titled "Kvinna i dräkt" -- literally, "Woman in costume." The pattern of this woman's apron is incredibly similar to that of the skirt of the Kirsten doll's outfit -- a dark red base with blue and yellow stripes woven throughout.

Here is a closeup from the American Swedish Institute.

Although it is not shown in the doll-sized version of the outfit, the illustrations in Meet Kirsten by Renée Graef show us she also wears a light-colored, striped apron, which is almost surely the one that comes with her meet outfit.

Illustrations from Meet Kirsten, drawn by Renée Graef.

Notice the fabric of the bodice in the third illustration, though: Kirsten's top is made of red plaid fabric, while Sodermark's girl has an outfit full of stripes. Kirsten, bless her heart, spends an entire book outfit-repeating a potential pattern-mixing fail: plaid and two kinds of stripes and a floral scarf. Did Pleasant Rowland just hate her? Is Kirsten on another, elevated fashion plane far beyond my comprehension? Is there a historical basis for this combination of patterns?

I have no answer to the first two questions, but thankfully can speak on the third.

Komplett Vilskedräkt, Västergötlands museum. Some pieces c. 1865.

The top is plaid and laces up, which is not necessarily the most common way of fastening (in most examples, the bodice pins up), but it is a sensible choice considering both Kirsten's age (9) and the fact that Pleasant Company was making toys for little hands.

The model for the outer shell (the lace up top) belonged to Karl Edberg from Hällestad; it is not dated, but at least one piece of this set (the bag, which is not shown) is c. 1865. Additionally, the blouse here is very similar to the one that comes with Kirsten's winter outfit -- look at that keyhole neckline!

So, Kirsten's Dirndl outfit is actually very accurate as far as the clothing itself goes...the name remains the trouble.

I have no idea why they called it a dirndl. Folkdräkt is definitely challenging to pronounce, but why wouldn't PC just translate it as "folk dress" or "Swedish outfit" and call it a day? Why the insistence on referencing a culture that isn't relevant to the doll or her dress at all?

Perhaps this is a mystery to tackle for another day...

[agentoffangirling]

The Miraculous movie is x10 better than the show will ever be and I'll stand by that

Like, okay, here's the thing: Miraculous is the type of show that can only go on for so long. It's a superhero show, fundamentally, and so while the premise allows for so much creativity, the team behind it does not seem interestred in letting those possibilities play out. This leads to many of the episodes bring constantly repeated. The plot of every episode can be summed up with:

Marinette schemes to get Adrien/generally anything Adrien related, someone (differs on whether or not it's connected to her) gets akumaized, Ladybug and Chat Noir show up, Chat Noir usually ends up getting hurt in some way, Lucky Charm, everything gets fixed, Marinette learns a lesson. With the exception of a few episodes, this is the format they all do

And technically, that's not a bad thing as long as you make it enjoyable to watch. Your characters can learn and grow, becoming completely different people by the end. But as we've acknowledged, the MLB team doesn't want to do that

Chloe was set up for a redemption arc in season 2. She was on track to becoming genuinely likeable and a good person, straying from the bully role. What does Astruc do? Make her into an even worse villain bc she's "unredeemable"

Even though. She is a literal CHILD

Marinette, dear god, hasn't changed a single bit since s1. She's with Adrien now, yes, but still retains all her obsessive qualities and goes stalker mode whenever she sees Adrien hanging out with another girl (see Sublime). I see changes in Ladybug, but I hardly ever see that with Marinette. And it pains me so so much that they don't give her a chance to grow

And do I even NEED to go on about how it's been six seasons and multiple specials and STILL they don't know their identities?? Give it a rest!

Most people in the fandom fully recognize this and acknowledge that the only reason they watch it now is to see what happens, not necessarily because it's a good show

So yes, the Miraculous movie, with all of its cheesy lines and not-synced-up-singing, will always be better to me, imo, shows that Miraculous should've either ended a while ago or just had a movie series (3-4)

I suppose it's because Astruc had little involvement in it, bc Mari and Adrien (he has a personality now!! /lh) show themselves to be better people by the end. Gabriel here is just a broken father who wants to save his family‌, as opposed to series!Gabriel who is more than happy to kill his own son bc he's obsessed with his wife. Chloe is Chloe, but she's less superficial, and gives the vibe of actually being redeemed rather than toying with it

I would also argue that it being a musical works perfectly for the genre but I do wish they made that a bit more clear since so many were taken aback by it

Not to mention that the animation is GORGEOUS!! Every still and shot from this movie shows that it was made with love and care, down to the dust collecting on the benches in the sun (I could go on a whole thing on its own about the lighting, it is stunninggggg)

Just look at this asgycoitxruxxitcit

Oh, and props for solving the love square much faster. That is how it should be done

Point is, the Miraculous movie allows for proper growth and character building while the series is a train that's running low on track. I wouldn't say that we need a whole franchise of this, bc that would give us the exact same problems, but hey, a few movies? I would be totally for that

[anime-fan-05]

love your writing. youre awesome. you don't have to but if if you could could you make yuyu hakusho characters x reader who's into cute dresses, make up, skin and haircare routines, stuffed animals collections and girly things. would they be accepting of her, find her annoying, join her or what do you think? plz

Yu Yu Hakusho ~With a very feminine reader~

Manga/anime: Yu Yu Hakusho

Warnings: nothing

(Y/N): your name

Thank you very much for the compliment! I personally didn't know which characters you meant exactly, so I created the headcanon with the main 4 and Koenma. If you also want someone else, write to me privately and I'll include them.

U. Yusuke

He thinks you're very adorable, but he'll never join you in hair and skin care

However, he really enjoys putting on your makeup, even if he often messes up your face

When you come back from the hairdresser with your hair cut or from the beautician with your nails done, he's always playing dumb that doesn't notice anything; however, after seeing you were offended, he compliments you ("I noticed it, (Y/N). You look great.")

Whenever he can, he buys you cute stuffed animals or accessories, such as necklaces and bracelets or rubber bands and hair clips

He also gives you nice clothes if he can buy them for you, and, if you wear them, he'll blush deeply and turn his head away so you can't see his huge blush

K. Kazuma

He's probably the person who accepts you the most

Are you wearing a nice outfit? "You're so cute, (Y/N)!" Have you groomed or cut your hair? "You look great, darling!" Did you wear makeup? "You're so gorgeous! You look great without makeup, but you're beautiful even like that!"

He goes to the game room a lot of times to win stuffed animals for you; when he wins nothing, he sulks all day ("Sorry, I won nothing..." "Kazuma, you don't have to give me a stuffed animal a day, don't worry!")

You two often do skin care together, but don't tell Yusuke this or he'll make fun of Kazuma for life

To give you gifts, he often asks Keiko for advice, as he considers his sister to be one of the least feminine women in existence (Shizuru always gets angry when he points this out to her)

Kurama

He finds it very cute you always get dressed up, but he often tells you you're beautiful, even without accessories or luxurious clothes

He always, always notices when you do something different to your hair, nails or face ("Have you done anything to your hair/nails/face? You're very beautiful, (Y/N).")

Probably, you two do hair care together: you're the only person wh's allowed to care for his hair

When you wear cute clothes, he blushes slightly and looks at you affectionately and meanwhile Youko stirs inside him

He sometimes lets you find cute stuffed animals or accessories on your bed, and then he pretends he didn't put them there ("That? No, I didn't give it to you.")

Hiei

He doesn't understand you: he can't understand why you care yourself so much, and he refuses to join you if you ask him this

Despite this, one day, after seeing his sister getting her hair done by Kazuma (Hiei wanted to kill him), he decided he would do the same to you: so, he combs your hair every morning

For a while, he never gave you accessories or stuffed animals, since he thought they were useless; however, everything changed when, one day, he gave you a hair clip he had found during a mission, and he saw your happiness born from that small gesture

"I found it lying around and I thought only a person like you could wear that horror."

This is what he says every time he gives you something to wear, but it's clear he does it because he loves seeing you smile and seeing you with what he steals buys

Koenma

Like Kazuma, he also compliments you when you change your appearance, changing your hairstyle or wearing different and nice clothes every time

You two do skin treatment together: he always claims your hands have the power to make his skin soft ("Only (Y/N) can touch my face! Only she has magic hands!")

He gives you everything you want: have you seen a nice hairpin? You'll find it in your room. Have you expressed your desire for a dress? It'll be yours immediately

He forces his subordinates to have their hair or make-up done whenever you want poor Jorge

When he can (once a day), he gives you a stuffed animal

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[pirateprincessblog]

𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄

( 𝟎.𝟐 ) 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.

!𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬! 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞: 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 or here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x oc (alice dawson) x jung wooyoung 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.2k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: dilf!hwa, collegestudent!wooyoung, love triangle, dilf trope, eventual smut, angst, fluff 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: yet to come

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this series will be around 10-15 chapters :) please don't hesitate to leave feedback! thank you for reading <33

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"hey, i know you've been off the phone for a few days, and that you want some time alone. i just wanted to leave you a message so that you know that i am here for you."

"hey alice, it's been a week now. just thought i'd leave another voice message to remind you that i love you."

"rae says you haven't been coming to work. i'm getting worried now."

"why aren't you answering the door? are you okay?"

"you haven't spoken to your mother, either. i'm dying of worry. please at least view the messages i sent you so i know you're alive."

the redhead lies on her stomach, laptop opened on the bed in front of her. her eyes wander the articles on it, ignoring the burn from sleep deprivation and staring at the bright screen for a long time. her bladder is killing her, threatening to burst at any moment. but alice has been too lazy to get up for almost sixteen hours now, and her kidneys are pleading for mercy. she ignores it, clenching her core in hopes of relieving the pain. wooyoung's voice mails echo in the room, and she ignores that too. the knocking, ringing, calls, messages, all of it.

she opens the tab with her account balance again. the zeros on the screen are eating her inside out. the arrow on the screen clicks a different tab, and alice sighs, dropping her head on the pillow.

the famous onlyfans. it would be the easiest, fastest way. but is alice really at that point in her life? selling herself to strangers? well, pictures of herself. but still, to her, it was below her dignity. and she still had some. she thinks. what if they were only feet pictures? who cares about that? she would surely make a ton. enough to heal her mother, find a better place, and escape her pig of a father.

sugar daddy site? how does that even work? like onlyfans, but you only have one fan? and he is disgustingly older than you? what if he asks her for favours she cannot do?

a different job? she already has her dream job, and leaving it would be a disaster. the pay is god awful, but alice has never once spent her shift in a bad mood. always surrounded by the very thing she suffers from: fiction. fiction, daydreaming, imagination, you name it. alice suffers from it all. from the most wholesome and soft ones, to the evil erotic ones.

maybe the sugar daddy site will prove itself useful. they don't all have to be old and disgusting, right? after all, she can set boundaries. no live meeting, only texts, maybe a little role playing, and the money will flow. hopefully.

sugar daddy site

find exactly what you want discreetly, safely and fast. join the other 100 million members, experience love, luxury and sexual benefits.

click here to join now

it didn't take long for alice to click on the highlighted join button. she filled out the form with a fake name and address, but a correct town. after all, if he turns out to be someone actually gorgeous and not a complete creep, she wants to be within his range.

her friend requests are already flooding, along with message requests, and she has to take a moment collect herself. she doesn't have to answer any of them, she knows that. but some of those are extremely vulgar, filthy, and some straight up demanding. only two out of twenty messages are simple greetings, leading Alice to question her decision to join the site.

yourmaster75: hello gorgeous. nice tits. would love to play with them sometimes.

so muchfor a respectful hello. what a click bait. and what a cringe name. she clicks on the next one, hoping for a more appropriate approach.

sk1993: virgin or not?

alice is disgusted. she exits the site, then shuts her laptop. with her head buried in the bed, she reaches for her phone. it pains her to even unlock it, her brain having memorized the zeroes on the screen in the bank app. but she does it, feeling bad for poor wooyoung who was desperately trying to make sure she is alright. all while she was on a sex site.

my darling: i know you hate when i offer you money, but please, at least until you get some of it back, accept my help

my darling: or at least take a look at these job applications that i found

my darling: you don't even have to quit your current one, these are all two or three hours of work a day or just few times a week

alice sighs, feeling defeated. if only she had enough courage to face her father and demand her money back. instead, she is seriously considering getting a second job. perhaps it's for the best. it would serve as a distraction, keep her from thinking about her parents, and exhaust her enough to ensure a good night's sleep. the only downside would be not seeing wooyoung as much as before. but he understands, otherwise he wouldn't have sent her all those links or even offered his help.

my darling: now this one is just outside of town, but i could drive you there and you'd just get on the bus back. and the pay looks very good!

indeed, the pay looks very good. a month of working at this place is worth three of working at the library. and only a few hours a week?

babysitter needed

working hours: 17:00 - 22:00 (mon-wed-fri-sat) negotiable paycheck flexible working hours reimbursed transportation fees experience not required

requirements:

- non-smoker - sociable and extroverted - energetic and creative - proper attire and language usage

for any additional information, please call the number below to schedule an appointment.

it does not state the age of the child, which makes alice feel somewhat uneasy. if it's a toddler, she believes she could manage him. but a baby? an infant? how could she possibly know when it's hungry or thirsty? how would she know if it's in pain, and how would she help if it is? it all seems so daunting, and it discourages her from typing in the digits on her phone.

but the pay is tempting, and the young girl finds herself dialing the number swiftly, before she can change her mind. the voice on the other line is dull and snobby, it makes alice roll her eyes with each word that is said into her ear. she just can't wait to see where and with who she would work. after all, that amount of money and that voice do not belong to a regular family.

༺═━─━────༺༻────━─━═༻

the next few days are barely manageable. despite the annoying and obnoxiously loud device being locked away in the drawer, it still manages infuriate alice on the other end of the library. countless of calls and messages from her mother, and an unknown number. she doesn't have to guess twice who that number belongs to. but she could take a guess or two about the reason of the calls.

wooyoung, on the other hand, has given her space. he lets her know that he still loves her, leaving a good morning and good night message every day, along with a flower picked just by the sidewalk near the campus and sometimes a witty hand-written note. and alice sometimes replies, guilt eating her alive, and assures him that she loves him too. she assures herself too, pushing her feelings under the rug. she would never admit it, not even in her head, that she isn't sure in her love for him recently.

the relationship has been one-sided for a while now, with wooyoung doing everything. calls, texts, dates, everything. she was just there, fulfilling the role of the girlfriend. and she was happy while with him, really. but the moment she kissed him goodbye and shut the door, her heart gets drained of those feelings. she is scared to admit even to herself, still hoping that this is just a phase and that it will pass. maybe as soon as her mother recovers, or she fixes the damage her father has done.

yet deep down, she knows that she has cooled down. she doesn't feel the butterflies like she used to, she doesn't initiate anything in the relationship, and the only thing that is keeping her emotions somewhat alive are her books. wooyoung blames it on the situation, but alice knows she is the only one to blame. maybe it's those books, setting high standards that wooyoung can't fulfill. after all, what sane man would hold a knife to her throat as he pounds into her-

"hey, aren't you done for the day?" rae calls, causing alice to twitch and grab onto the ladder. "you were supposed to be out over half an hour ago."

"i was just unpacking the last of today's delivery. suddenly every professor, student and their mothers need this stupid book."

the curly haired girl gasps, putting a hand over her mouth dramatically. "did you, alice dawson, just call a book stupid?"

alice rolls her eyes at the other girl, hiding a smile and acting annoyed. she pushes the ladder aside, picking up the empty boxes and stomping on them to make them flat and easier to dispose.

"also, didn't you have somewhere to go today?"

"yeah, but that's at five in the afternoon."

"alice?"

"yes?"

"it's four fourty-five."

the stomping on boxes is replaced by stomping down the library, legs carrying the girl to the locker with her belongings faster than ever. her hands struggle to unlock it, items falling everywhere as she reaches for her open backpack. she collects anything she can, before storming outside with a quick goodbye to her confused and worried coworker.

the bus has departed long ago, and alice can either run there, or get a taxi. the zeroes on her screen are reducing, and alice is thankful for that. but it feels so painful to spend money now, even when it's needed. having no other choice, the girl jumps into the back seat, showing the driver the address and leaning against the window, hoping to make it on time.

her gaze lingers on the buildings as the car leaves the city behind. winter days approach, with the sun setting earlier than usual and the street lamps already coming to rescue before it completely disappears and darkness swallows the city. as the buildings slowly fade and start turning into grass and trees, her eyes decide to rest for a while.

in such a short time, she dreams of a better life. she dreams of a complete, functional family, a job that she loves but pays well, a healthy relationship with wooyoung again, a house that is not only a bedroom and a bathroom. not a mansion. just a simple house or flat, much like all people her age have.

when she opens her eyes, she sees a house she only ever saw on those luxury social media pages. dark grey stone, with vines decorating it and stopping just near the dark framed windows. large windows. alice steps out of the car, mesmerized by the view that never stops. the gates are open, allowing her to take a look at the path through the greenest grass she's ever seen. fountains, statues, fruit trees, and whatnot. alice has never been a fan of fruit, rather settling for a slice of pizza or chocolate. but her hazel eyes have never seen such deep crimson apples, shining under the last golden rays of sunshine. her mouth becomes watery, and her fingers yearn to touch.

is this what hungry eyes are? she would've never touched one in a grocery store, not even think of eating it. yet there she is, trailing behind the man who introduced himself to her at the entrance and looked at her somewhat disapprovingly, her gaze fixed on the trees.

"watch it, girl." the older man in the suit warns, putting a hand in front of her.

she halts, looking down. her feet are planted at the bottom of the stairs, and had the snobby man not intervened, she might have stumbled, gracing the beautiful cobblestones with a memorable kiss, likely leaving an imprint on her nose.

"you are about to enter the park residence, and it is my duty to remind you of some rules, miss..."

"dawson." she replies, raising an eyebrow. rules?

"lovely. miss dawson, refrain from using vulgar vocabulary, do not chew any gum, candy, whatever it is that is rustling in your pockets, and last, but not least, you are to not talk to mr park."

"and..." the girl's voice comes out raspy, and she takes a moment to clear her throat before continuing, "...why is that?"

"you are here to do business with mrs park. mr park doesn't like to be disturbed, he has a tight schedule and runs on seconds. any minor distraction, his day becomes unsucessful."

"sounds like a happy man."

the older man spares her a glance, before going up the stairs and opening the big doors. she is first greeted by a grand staircase, then hit with a pleasant smell of pastries.

"please wipe your shoes before entering, the maid has mopped the floor twice today already. if she sees a speck of mud again, she will get sent into cardiac arrest."

the redhead glances at her once white sneakers, now grey and dusty, nearly falling apart. one of the shoelaces is undone, but seeing the man already continuing the journey, she simply tucks it into her sneaker and wipes the soles on the mat. she catches up to him, her gaze sweeping the marble tiles reflecting the massive chandelier. it lights up the staircase, unveiling a red rug spilling down the wooden stairs and all the way to the entrance. alice didn't have a chance to stand on it yet, because the man led her through an alternate route. possibly because of the state of her shoes.

alice suddenly feels... cheap. the odd one out. an outcast. the more she looks at her surroundings, the worse she feels. she didn't know such lifestyle exists. used to tripping over clothes and books on the way to the fridge in her own flat, alice couldn't comprehend the vastness of the newly discovered space and everything that came with it. that's why her eyes settled for looking at the man's back, the tailcoat suddenly a very interesting shade of black.

she is lead to a kitchen, equally lavish. dark wooden cupboards, a whole kitchen island, and a cook.

"jude, could you seat the girl while i go get mrs park?"

"sure thing, franklin."

the aroma of pastries intensifies as the lady opens the oven, fogging up the kitchen briefly before revealing a batch of steaming hot cupcakes. also red in colour, with specks of white in it.

"apologies, dear. i'll be with you as soon as i pop in another batch."

as she busies herself with pouring the batter in the tins, alice decides to take a good look at her. she looks younger than franklin, the butler she assumes, but not young. her face is very mature, and her body language so graceful. clean, trimmed nails, dark haired with grey strands pulled in a tight bun, and minimal makeup on her eyes and cheeks. alice decides she likes this woman, unlike franklin.

"sit down, love. would you like tea? milk? anything?"

"do you happen to have coffee?" she carefully asks, trying to sound polite and not demanding.

"oh, sorry. mrs park hates the smell of it, in any way. coffee is absolutely forbidden in my kitchen, or in the manor."

"then, tea will do. thank you."

the woman, jude, opens her cupboards, reading the flavors she can offer. alice picks one closest to her hand, not wanting to inconvenience her. as she works on the beverage, alice sits at the kitchen island and gathers everything she has heard about the mysterious mrs park. mr park sounds horrible, and mrs park doesn't seem to be a ray of sunshine either. luckily, she would soon find out.

as she blows on the hot beverage, her eyes can't help but eye the pastries that are being aligned on a three tear porcelain plate with a golden rim. her ears don't pick up the distant clicking of shoes in the hallway, too busy listening to the sound of the cupcake wraps and jude's soft humming. it isn't until the clicking is right near alice that she jolts, setting the fancy looking cup on the small plate before her lips have touched the liquid.

"oh, great. a ginger. well, good evening. glad to see you enjoy a nice cup of tea after being late." the tone sounds sincere, but smile on the woman's face gives it away. it is bitter, almost yelling at alice to leave the place right away. "but, that's alright. you don't need to get defensive."

"uh- i was just-"

"you. don't. need. to. get. defensive. clear?" the woman claps her hands after each word, before pointing both of them at alice while still together.

"clear." the redhead says, mind still lingering on the ginger comment.

"good. now, before we begin, i- jude, what is this?"

jude puts the final cupcake on the plate, looking happy with her work. "red velvet cupcakes with white chocolate bits, ma'am. like your daughter asked."

"no, no way. how much sugar is in that?"

happiness drains from her face, replaced by furrowed eyebrows and stuttering. "i- i don't know. not much, ma'am. i promise."

"she's not having that. throw it away and make her an acai bowl or something. how dare you?"

alice's heart crumbles seeing the cupcakes being removed off the plate and shoved into a paper bag, only to be handed to franklin who exits the kitchen and makes his way outside with it.

"excuse me." jude bows her head, then follows franklin's path outside.

"right, alice. how old are you?"

the girl fidgets in her seat, anger flowing in her veins. the woman in front of her is so nonchalant, as if she didn't destroy someone's hard work with a few sentences. she is furious, her hands itching to smack the smile off the woman's face. she is disgustingly pretty, which pisses alice further off. blonde haired, with ice cold grey eyes, and clear tight skin. such a horrible person, with such a nice appearance. unfair.

"twenty two." she replies, trying to remain respectful, although she lost all her respect for her.

"perfect. my daughter turns twenty two soon, so that part is good. now..." she gets a tablet from one of the drawers on the kitchen island, sharp nails clicking against the screen.

"wait, what?"

"do not interrupt me." mrs park points a finger at alice, without lifting her eyes from the device in her hands. "now, would you say that you are active? creative? what do you do in your free time?"

"i read. when i have time."

mrs park frowns, pursing her lips. "anything else? anything that is not... boring to death?"

"reading is not boring." alice defends herself, and her dear books, resulting in mrs park whipping her head at her tone. "with all due respect, ma'am, reading is not boring. but, i guess aside from that... i used to paint and play sports."

"and why don't you do that anymore?"

"i work a lot."

"fair enough. do you enjoy shopping?"

"what kind of shopping? groceries?" alice genuinely asks, making the woman laugh.

"clothes, jewelry. you know, shopping. don't tell me you don't do that?"

"not quite, no." not since every single penny went to her mother's healthcare.

"luckily, it's addictive. you won't have any trouble getting used to that. now, my daughter loves shopping, and money isn't an issue. you'll get along very well."

"i'm sorry, i'm confused."

"well, if you would let me talk, i'd explain it to you. you're not here to babysit. not exactly. you're here to be my daughter's friend."

alice doesn't know if she heard well. she swears she read the article multiple times, and it spoke of babysitting.

"i do have a little son, milo, who will need looking after from time to time. but my priority is clara. she hasn't got a friend in the world, and she is growing really desperate. naturally, i put that article out to find a match for her."

if alice thought that she is pathetic, this just made her feel better. a mother paying someone to be friends with her daughter?

"now, everything fits perfectly, and i'm going to assume that you'll change your choice of clothes the next time you're here?"

looking down at her oversized hoodie and plain black leggings, alice bites the inside of her cheek. this woman's talent is putting other's down. perhaps it's the defiance, perhaps the pay, maybe even curiosity with such a lifestyle and how luxurious it gets, alice finds herself smiling at the woman and shaking her hand either way.

"i'll see you on monday. not late, preferably."

"yes, ma'am. looking forward to it."

"likewise, alice."

leaving the woman alone in the kitchen with a warm chair and a cold, untouched beverage, alice makes her way outside. franklin waits at the top of the stone stairs, speaking to jude. once they notice alice, they stop the conversation, and he takes it upon himself to approach her and offer to walk her out.

"see that car?" the man subtly motions towards the gates, hoping that alice would equally subtly look. but she fails to do so, glancing at the shiny black suv that is driving towards them. "don't look!"

alice jolts, returning her gaze on the butler.

"that's mr park. you are not to speak to him, only bow your head respectfully and stay like that until he enters the house. then, you can go."

"why such rules? is he a nobleman?" annoyance is evident in her voice, eyes rolling at the ridiculous behaviour.

"he is our boss, the man that provides us a roof over our heads and food for our stomachs. i realize basic politeness and ability to adapt to a more sophisticated environment are close to non-existent for you, but at least try to- good evening, sir."

franklin is forced to interrupt his scolding once the doors of the vehicle open, a tall figure stepping out of it. jude, franklin, and the driver all bow their heads. except alice. her gaze is stubbornly locked on the man, jaw almost on the floor.

a gorgeous man, who walks with such grace, and has impeccable fashion sense. a long black coat hangs from his shoulders only, revealing the full outfit underneath. he wears a loose black dress shirt, tucked into flawlessly ironed black slacks, and polished pointy shoes. his dark hair reaches to his collar, curtain bangs falling gently over his eyes, which are fixed on the phone in his hand. the driver gets into the car, going back the same way he came and parking the car in front of the gates.

"evening, franklin. jude." he greets, voice dripping honey.

alice slumps her shoulders as if trying to hide, feeling even more self conscious. she wasn't sure that was possible.

mr park must've noticed a new figure in line, one that doesn't quite fit in with the black and white dress code the manor seems to be following. he looks up from his phone, dark eyes looking into alice's. she could see the statue lights in them, making them as shiny as the silver rings on his slender fingers. he tilts his head slightly, not blinking.

"and who might this be?"

"the babysitter, sir. apologies, she was just on her way." franklin speaks for alice, and she is thankful for that. she isn't sure she can form her own sentence. not while the man looks at her so intensely.

"so joanne finally approved one?"

"yes, sir. she seems like a good fit."

"good." mr park nods, locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket. he approaches alice, face so close to her it makes her audibly gulp. "well then, welcome."

he holds his hand out for her to take. she hesitates, the proximity making her knees weak and legs ice cold. he smells of lilies and sandalwood, with a trace of vanilla, and it reduces her ability to function. franklin nudges her foot with his, jolting her awake. she accepts mr park's hand, feeling a wave of relief as a genuine smile spreads across his face. her hand fits perfectly in his, as comforting as a fuzzy warm hug on a bad day.

"get home safely, miss...?"

"dawson, sir. alice dawson."

"right, miss dawson. franklin, please escort miss dawson to my car and have gulliver drive her home."

"oh, that is not necessary-" alice tries to politely decline, but gets interrupted by franklin.

"right away, sir."

"have a good night, alice."

"good night, mr park."

the butler wishes his boss a good night, then escorts alice to the gates and near the car.

"on monday, i expect you to arrive on time. in proper clothes. no crop tops, no short skirts, no cleavage. polo shirts, shirts, long skirts, long dresses, that is allowed. don't make me send you home to change. and if possible, buy new shoes. ones that aren't falling apart with each step you take. understood?"

"understood."

"good. travel safely. good night, miss dawson."

"good night, franklin."

franklin turns around, making his way to the manor. the driver patiently waits in the car, not uttering a word to alice. before entering the vehicle, her eyes notice the familiar paper bag set on the floor next to the trash bin. even their trash bin is fancy, able to open only with a chip or a password. maybe so that people like alice wouldn't go through it and enjoy their discarded possessions.

without further thinking, alice grabs the bag, the batch of cupcakes still fresh and untouched in it before hopping into the car and saying her address to the driver.

[dayseternal-blog]

Summary: After years of war and bloodshed, the Uchiha and remaining members of the Uzumaki clan joined forces with the Senju. Within the space of one generation, several other clans forfeit to their combined strength, while others futilely resist.

Tasked to bring the weakening yet stubborn Hyuuga clan down swiftly and silently, Naruto successfully infiltrates their territory. And then promptly messes up.

Rebooting this really old wip for @kilandra-mordea's Secret Santa gift for NaruHina Month 2024!

Rated T.

"Trust" - Chapter 1: A Really Important Mission

No, he didn’t underestimate his enemy.

Although circumstances might suggest differently.

Her knees and feet pushing the air out of his lungs, the fight out of his legs.  His arm twisted in her tight grasp, and the other shoulder dislocated.

His own sword pointed, tip steady and sharp, at his very vulnerable throat.

No, he knows too well to underestimate a woman warrior.  Any woman who can succeed on the battlefield has twice the skills of any common man, and he’s learned that the hard way many years before today.

So…

Fierce animosity sparks behind the lightest eyes he’s ever seen.  Pearly.  Far too pretty on a gently shaped, feminine face…

No, he didn’t underestimate her!

He manages a grin, not a grimace.  “Before you finish the job, would you do me the honor of your name?”

Gentle brows furrow ever closer, and for a second, that cold animosity is replaced by surprised confusion.

For one second.

And she’s twisting his arm even harder than before.  “Who’s your master?  Answer me.”

There’s no way he’ll betray Tsunade, even when he’s more than just a little sore about her not mentioning there would be a gorgeous, young--

The sting of her sword pricks into his throat, and his eyes dart back up from the cleavage peeking through the loosening folds of her bedclothes.  It seems like even the very threat of decapitation doesn’t stop the ingrained habits of his teachers…

No, he didn’t underestimate her, right?

“Does it matter?  I’m dead as of now, anyway.  Either you’re slicing my head off--” He makes a schliiick sound for added drama, “--and my blood gets to spurt all over you, or I stab myself in the guts, rearrange my innards, and spill my stomach on your tatami.”  He visibly muses his options, somehow finding humor in his last minutes alive, and he takes it as a personal win when her nose scrunches up in distaste.

“You can’t do that, this is my bedroom,” she argues, as if he was unaware.

“Then I guess we’ll have to take this outside.”

She frowns deeper.  “Not in my garden!”

“Then where?”  And he can’t help a more genuine smile sneaking up on his lips even as new ideas to complete his mission float about his mind.

It’s all halfhearted plans, though.  He was doomed from the start.  Before any of them could have known.

He can’t kill someone like her.

It was that one second of hesitation that sealed his fate.  He could’ve murdered her.  It would’ve been too easy.  Too simple.

And therefore too wrong.

It’s not farfetched to think he was never cut out for this lifestyle.  He never really handled these kinds of missions well, and killing in cold blood was always difficult.  To separate his mind from his body.  To cut off his heart from his actions.  He could always manage.

On old men.  (Who were fathers).

On young men.  (Who were sons and brothers).

He’s known for some time now that the Hyuuga head was the infamous and powerful Hiashi.  A man with strong life force despite his age, supposedly the strongest in the family.  Intel told him he’d find a cruel man in the Main House.

“When I say so, you’re going to get up and walk with me.  One wrong move and I’ll--schliiick--slice your legs off.”  She sounds way too collected for such a serious joke, and it’s...

Just not funny anymore.

Reality is starting to settle in.  The moon lighting up her delicate features instead casts the shadow of death across the room.

At least it seems she’ll grant him an honorable death.

In less than two seconds, she’s got him rolled over, hands locked in one of her arms, and she’s urging him to stand.  “Get up.”

He staggers to his feet, and he doesn’t fail to notice that she makes good on her promises.  His sword is now angled at his legs, ready to hack him off at the knees.

Internally, he’s readying himself for his death, trying to find some kind of empty, zen-like peace.

Outwardly, he’s majorly aware of the softness of her nightwear at his forearms, her chest pressing into his back.

What a way to go.  His one and only opportunity in life to feel a woman, and it’s on his death march.

“Walk,” she murmurs, and he’s suddenly way too aware of the fact that her voice is...soft.

Obediently, as he has no other real options anyway, he steps forward.

Blunt pain lances into his neck, the world shifts in a split-second realization, and all fades to nothing.

---

Chapter 2, which is completely new stuff, will be posted tomorrow!!!

[moki-dokie]

You know what I'm disappointed in Tumblr for not collectively being down tremendously bad for Nosferatu. It's the most Tumblr movie to hit theatres in years and y'all are sleeping on it. Fucking SHAME

It's got EVERYTHING!!!

The most respectful homage to daddy king of horror movies/silent films in general for the film nerds

Some of the most beautiful shots I have seen in literal decades for the limited color use and spooky fantastical light sources for all the camera/techy nerds

Extremely intricate and detailed and drop dead gorgeous costuming that I'm going to assume was like half the budget bc holy SHIT. Best period accuracy for that time and place maybe I've ever seen. Costume hos where you at on this??

PHENOMENAL practical effects and prosthetics.

RATS!!! LIKE FIVE THOUSAND RATS!!!!

Extremely homoerotic bloodsucking like you cannot even imagine. I could have watched sloppy bareback gay porn and it would not have been half as erotic as THAT scene was.

The most pathetic "I love my wife!!!!!" man to grace my eyeballs in such a long time. He's wet. He's traumatized. He's a poor damsel in distress. His only focus is to get back to his batshit wife. After meeting the most terrifying and creepy walking corpse he complains at the guy for taking the locket his wife gave him. He's so wet. So often. Just. Sad sad dripping wet blorboest blorbo. I love him.

Horror that is not just jump scares and gore. Horror that makes you profoundly uncomfortable. Horror that makes you think. Horror that's disgusting. Horror that's psychological. Horror that is an open interpretation for a lot of different things.

It's a fucked up love story. Seriously. The cast referred to it as a love triangle. A toxic one - even better.

That score??? Goddamn that was some majestic scoring.

Ride or die bff's!!!! Sapphic vibes even!!!

The most insane woman ever who could do 0 wrong. Her performances are so good and weird and intense. I wish she could have like burned down a village full of evil people or something she deserved it.

I frankly don't agree with the folks that feel like she got fridged. She took control of the narrative as soon as she realized what would kill him. She made the choice before any of them. She used the vile power that had haunted her so long to destroy it - for good

Willem Dafoe being a lovely unhinged madman, as usual.

Size difference like holy fuck size difference!!!!!! Nosferatu BIIIIIG!!!!

Nasty ugly gross creepy proper monster!!

MONSTER DICK. FULL FRONTAL MONSTER DICK!!!!!!

It has EVERYTHIIIIIIIING GO SEE IT!!!!!